In a Land Not So Far Away
by OopsIThoughtICouldFlyy
Summary: Despite her mapped out life, young Princess Historia had always dreamed of falling in love, though she had yet to experience it for herself - that is, until she met a mysterious thief - a young woman her age. Will Historia be able to discover her true feelings, or an even better question, will she be able to deviate from the path that has always been laid out in front of her?


**Chapter One: Not Quite a Fine Lady**

The soft chirping of morning doves carried into Historia's bedroom, gently stirring her from sleep. Even though the thick lace curtains of her windows prevented any sunlight from filtering through, she still tightly curled herself into her plush blankets, burying her head into her pillows.

A few minutes later, a soft knock came on her bedroom door, a thin line of light stretching across the floor as it opened slightly.

"Princess?" a maid asked, entering the room and closing the door behind her. "Are you awake?"

The woman received a muffled groan in reply.

"Princess, you have to get up, it's ten minutes until breakfast time, and-"

"A fine lady is always punctual." Historia yawned as she slowly sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. "That's what you were going to say, right?"

"It was indeed." the maid said, a small smile on her face as she drew back the curtains and allowed the sunlight to fall across Historia's bed.

The petite princess squinted her eyes at the sudden light in her room, mumbling quietly as she scooted to the edge of her bed, swinging her legs over the edge. Her feet only came about halfway to the floor before she slid down and landed lightly on the wood surface. She stood there, swaying slightly, still not fully awake as she waited for the maid to retrieve the day's outfit from her closet.

"Today's outfit is a peach colored dress with a cream knit cover up. Your socks and shoes will be worn after breakfast." she said, retrieving the listed items from the closet, placing them on the bed. "I'll be back to make your bed once you're done changing. Please do be on time, Princess."

"Of course." Historia replied, giving the woman a sweet smile before she left.

Sighing, she quickly slipped out of her pajamas and into the outfit in front of her. Once she had finished, she folded them and set them neatly on the bed and sat in front of the large mirror placed atop of her side table, brushing her knotted hair.

Her straight blonde hair stopping right below her shoulders, and her bangs fell slightly into her blue eyes. She pinned them to the side, keeping them out of her face or the most part - yet there was always that one strand of hair that refused to stay back, and always fell in the middle of her forehead.

She stared for a few moments, taking in the details of her own face. Her soft pale skin accompanied with the light color of her eyes and hair gave her the appearance of a doll, yet when she brought her small pink lips up in a smile, she seemed to almost glow with beauty that gave off a gentle kindness whenever she did.

She had always been admired and envied by the other girls for her petite stature, deemed "cute" by most people she met. While she didn't mind being small, there were times when she felt a bit sad that she didn't look more respectable or intimidating.

As her mother always said, "A fine lady must always strike beauty as well as fear into her subjects' hearts."

With a minute to spare, she quietly left her room and made her way down the main marble staircase in her family's estate. She kept a firm grip on the arm rail and winced as she made each step, being that the stone was cold to the touch whenever the bare soles of her feet came into contact.

She hurried quickly, running on her toes so that her footsteps would be quieter, she made her way to the entrance of the dining room where her mother and father would be waiting inside. She slowed to a stop beside the doorway, catching her breath and fixing the misplaced strands of her hair back into place. She smoothed the front of her dress, took a deep breath, and entered.

Her mother and father sat across from each other at the end of the long dining table in the center of the room as a butler stood off to the side, ready to wait on the king and queen if they requested it. While the seemingly endless table could easily seat a party of forty, her parents and herself ate their breakfasts, lunches, and dinners here, always at the very end despite the long rows of chairs along both sides. It always made Historia feel a bit lonely, looking out from the head of the table at the lines of empty chairs, never once in her fifteen years having seen one of them filled - excluding the two her parents always sat in.

Sometimes, as a child, she'd pretend ghosts would sit in them - her imaginary friends that would eat poached eggs with her at breakfast, or gag in disgust at the steamed vegetables she hated that her mother always insisted she eat.

"You don't want to be gaining any weight," she'd said one day, pointing a fork at Historia when she was about the age of twelve.

"The ideal weight for any bride is a hundred and twenty pounds, so make sure you don't go eating too much meat, darling."

Historia had subconsciously began to hate vegetables that day as she shoved her collared greens around on her plate, wishing she could've had a second helping of roast beef as she watched her father have his third.

Now, Historia made her way past those empty chairs once again, walking slowly and elegantly the way her mother had taught her. A fresh vase of wildflowers from the front garden was set between her parents as they ate silently, her father reading a small novel in one hand and drinking tea in the other as her mother focused on stabbing one of her over easy eggs with the spokes of her fork. They both looked up as their daughter approached.

"Good morning, my darling." her mother said, the corners of her eyes showing small crinkles as she smiled at her daughter. Her father merely nodded, sipping his tea.

"Good morning mother, father," she said, curtsying to them before the butler came up behind her to pull out her chair for her.

"Thank you…" she said, her sentence trailing as she realized she didn't recognize the young butler as she sat down.

"My name is Berthold, my lady." he said, stepping to her side before he pressed his hand to his chest and bowed to her in respect. "I was hired last week, but I've only just arrived here last night."

"Ah, thank you then, Berthold...or Bert, if I may call you that?" Historia added, noting how nervous the new butler seemed despite his calm voice - the poor thing was sweating.

"I'd be honored if you would, my lady." Bert said, one of the maids had appeared and served the princess her breakfast on a covered silver platter. She removed the top to reveal toast and fresh fruit - Historia guessed they had been grown on the estate property.

"If you need anything, my lady, do not even hesitate to ask." he said, returning to his place on the side of the room.

She nodded to him, and gave him an encouraging smile before lifting a piece of toast to her mouth.

A few moments of silence passed as she ate, and was only broken by the occasional sound of her father turning a page of his novel or the scraping of her mother's silverware against her plate. Historia carefully dabbed her napkin on her lips after each bite of food she took, and resisted the urge to wipe her hands on her legs - she knew her mother was a strict enforcer of manners and proper etiquette.

She felt her chest swell with pride as she reached for her glass of milk, thinking she had finally done a satisfactory job, when her mother finally broke the silence.

"Historia, my dear," she said, Historia's heart immediately sinking as she saw her mother's eyes resting on her hand. "have you been biting your nails again?"

"You know how disgusting I find nail biting to be, I thought you had quit this silly little habit." her mother said, upturning her nose slightly at her daughter.

"Y-yes, mother...I'm sorry, but I've just been really stressed lately and-"

"No buts," her mother interjected, cutting her off. "A fine lady is always conscious of her personal hygiene, and I will not have any daughter of mine biting her nails."

Historia felt herself sink lower in her chair in embarrassment as her mother continued to scold her, she felt her cheeks beginning to turn a light pink.

"Honestly, what prince would even think to hold hands with a girl who gnaws on her fingers?" her mother scoffed, taking a sip of tea.

_What king would even think to hold hands with an old hag with liver spots on her hands?! _Historia thought bitterly, surprised at the own harshness of her thoughts.

In the silence that had once again fallen amongst the family, Historia attempted to calm herself down. She took slow, deep breaths through her nose as she counted to ten, clenching and unclenching her fists in her lap under the table as she tried to clear her mind.

She had done this regularly, since being violent or negative was not a trait she wanted to have, she had resorted to coping mechanisms to handle her anger rather than arguing or fighting, no matter how wrong her mother or whomever else the one she was angry at was.

Suffering in silence for peace was much better than fighting, she had decided.

Feeling a need for fresh air, she wiped her mouth on her napkin before rising from the table.

"I'm going for a stroll outside." she said quietly, keeping her tone even.

"You'll be scheduled for a manicure this afternoon." her mother said, waving her hand at her daughter and - like always - her father said nothing.

"Be back by noon."

"Yes, mother."

Historia left the room, the edge of her dress swishing against her thighs as she made her way back to the staircase, her knee high socks and spotless white shoes present at the base of them. She held the back of her dress to her legs before sitting down on the first step, and quickly pulled on her socks and tightly tied the laces of her shoes before heading out the door - shutting behind her with a creak amplified by the seemingly emptiness of the inside of the estate.

* * *

Historia pulled her shrug tighter around herself, yet the brisk wind still seemed to chill her as she walked slowly amongst the gardens of the estate that she so loved. She was careful to walk along the stone path, wary of the dirt that threatened to stain her white shoes.

She watched the gardeners work, trimming bushes, pruning trees, and picking weeds, waving to them as they bowed when she passed. She stopped to admire her favorite flower garden, - the tulips - crouching down to touch the smooth pedals as a ladybug scurried across one of the leaves.

Historia sighed as she stood back up, smoothing the front of her dress before finding one of the painted white benches that dotted the large garden. The bench she had chosen was on the very edge of the property, mostly surrounded by the poplar trees that had been planted many years before she had been born. Once saplings, the trees now had thick trunks and branches that seemed to reach endlessly towards the clear blue sky.

Historia had spent a lot of time at this bench as a child, reading or climbing the branches of the trees. Since they were on the edge of the property, most of the landscapers and gardeners had never thought to tend to them, and therefore had almost never come to this area of the estate. Historia used this advantage of privacy to climb the tall trees without the annoyance of anyone fretting over her, or telling her to get down before she fell. She would test herself to see how much higher she could climb every week, and had once nearly climbed the entire height of one of the trees.

Smirking at the memories, Historia carefully brushed away whatever dirt or dust may have settled onto the bench before sitting. The princess relaxed, tilting her head back as she watched the clouds lazily float by above her. She listened to the sounds of the grasshoppers chirping, and squirrels rustling in the trees in the denser forest behind her, closing her eyes as she realized how much she had missed the outdoors.

When she was little, Historia had loved to help out in the gardens, pulling weeds and planting flowers, loving the feeling of the soil crumble between her fingers. She'd spend day after day playing and working, even in the summer heat, lugging heavy watering cans to each flower bed and even successfully sprouting a few different vegetables.

That is, until her mother had decided that garden work was better left to the gardeners.

* * *

"But, mother!" Historia had said, crying as her mother pulled her out of the gardens by the wrist. "I love it out here! I love growing plants, herbs - I even grew and picked these flowers for you all by myself!"

Her mother had barely glanced at the daisies that were tightly clutched in her daughters free hand.

"Historia, dear, it's lovely that you're able to grow flowers, but," her mother paused, as if looking for the easiest way to let the small crying child in front of her down.

"It's just that, garden work, dealing with dirt, sweating - I think that's work for the _lower class _women to handle, don't you agree? I've allowed this behavior to go on for long enough." she said, stopping at the large front doors of the estate and releasing her daughter's wrist.

"I mean, look at you, Historia. You're filthy." she upturned her nose slightly as her daughter looked down at herself. Dirt covered her hands and the knees of her jeans, as well as her shoes, and sweat had stained through most of her shirt. Her long blonde hair had been tied into a messy braid, and her now tear and snot stained face had been beat red from the unforgiving sun.

"How embarrassed do you think I'd be if anyone saw you like this? Especially if it was the Braun family. Girls like you belong indoors, not outside. Make more use of your time with something like...reading or knitting, dear." her mother said before opening the front door and calling for a maid to get a bath running.

She leaned down and placed her hands on Historia's tiny shoulders, meeting her blue eyes that were similar to her own.

"I don't want to find you gardening or doing anything that'll get you dirty again, understand?" she said seriously. Historia sniffed before nodding.

"Good," her mother said smiling, standing back up. "A fine lady is always presentable in whatever she does - you have to learn to look your best in whatever situation you may find yourself in."

"I have to look my best…" Historia mumbled, looking down at her dirty feet as a maid came out of the house holding plush towels.

"Wait, mother!" Historia said, reaching for the queen as she turned to go inside.

"What now?" she said, irritated as she looked over her shoulder at her daughter in the doorway. Historia flinched at her mother's tone.

"D...don't you want your flowers?" she asked, her voice and hand trembling as she weakly held out the daisies she had spent so much time growing. She had expected her mother to be delighted, praise her even for her work, maybe even giving her an affectionate pat on the head for the present.

"Oh, well, a maid can fetch a vase and some water for those I suppose, just put them wherever you want." her mother said, waving her hand carelessly to the maid standing quietly in the doorway with the towels. "You can take care of that after she's bathed."

Her mother left without a word, disappearing into the house once more without so much as a glance at her daughter.

At the time, Historia didn't understand the painful feeling she had felt in her chest as her tiny legs gave way, sobbing in the doorway as she crushed the stems of the daisies in her small fist. The maid had knelt down beside her, placing the towels carefully on the ground and rubbing soothing circles into the child's back as she cried.

"It's okay, Princess, she means well…" she trailed off, completely unsure of how to comfort the girl, until an idea struck her. She gently raised Historia's head, brushing a strand of hair out of her face before pointing to the daisies.

"May I see one?" she asked, smiling as the tiny girl nodded and wiped her eyes, handing her one of the now bent flowers.

"Thank you," she said, sniffing it and smiling wider at the young girl's surprised expression. "They're beautiful, really. You have quite the green thumb, Primcess, it's very admirable."

"Y-you really like them?" Historia asked, looking up at the maid doubtfully.

"Yes, in fact, I love them." she said, placing the flower in her ginger hair above her right ear.

"How do I look?" she asked, causing the little girl to giggle and sniff as her crying had begun to stop.

"You're really pretty," she said, grinning up at the maid.

"I'm flattered to hear that, especially from such a pretty young lady like yourself." she said, helping Historia to her feet. The little girl frowned now, looking down at herself again.

"Me? Pretty? I don't really see it…" she said sadly, the honesty in her tone broke the young maid's heart. She racked her brain, trying to think of how to respond.

"Well, you are, believe me, but- Princess, if you wouldn't mind, could I have the rest of those flowers you grew?" she asked, trying to switch the little girl's attention back to the flowers. Historia looked up at her, amazed.

"You...you really want them? Really? You mean it?" she asked, looking excited and nervous at the same time as her gaze dropped down to her folded hands.

"Of course, I would be honored to have them." the maid said, patting Historia's head before holding out her hand to take the rest of the daisies. She gathered the towels from the floor as well before speaking again.

"Now, are you ready for your bath?" she asked, the little girl nodding in response as she removed her shoes and trailed behind her to the washroom.

"Umm...ma'am?" she asked suddenly as they reached the washroom, steam from the hot water fogging up the mirrors.

"Yes?" she asked, waiting for the little girl to ask her question as she began rocking back and forth on her heels, lacing her fingers together as her blonde braid bounced against her back.

"If it's okay...can I ask, what's your name?" Historia said, looking up shyly at her.

"My name is Petra, Princess, you may call me by my name if you wish." Petra said, smiling down at the little girl that gave her a big grin in return, showing her teeth for the first time.

"Okay, Petra! I really like you!" she said, slowly taking off her clothes and untying her braid as Petra checked the bathwater to make sure that it wasn't too hot. "You're nicer than most of the maids, usually they just talk to me like I'm some sort of dummy."

"Oh, I would never do that to a bright girl like you." Petra said, adding soap to the bath before stepping aside to let Historia enter.

As she went to leave and give the girl privacy, she had almost shut the door before she heard Historia call out to her.

"Wait, Petra." she said, the bubbles and bathwater covering her from the shoulders down, her long hair swirling in the soapy water.

"Yes?" she asked, giving the girl a small smile of encouragement.

"Will...will you play with me later?" she asked timidly, "I mean, it's so boring staying in the house alone...and I don't know any of the neighborhood kids…"

"I'd love to," Petra said, winking at her. "Let me just find some fresh water for these flowers, and once you're done with your bath we'll play for as long as you'd like, okay?"

Historia nodded before Petra shut the door quietly behind her, leaving her to soak in the hot water as she scrubbed shampoo into her hair. The warmth of happiness filled her chest, as she realized that she had finally found someone who paid attention to her.

_My first friend..._she thought, smiling before dunking her head under the water to rinse her hair.

Petra had ended up spending time everyday from then on with Historia for most of the princess' childhood. She had taught her how to read and sew, she had told her stories of her homeland that she had moved to the Reiss estate from, she had laughed and cried with Historia and was always there for her whenever she may have needed her.

One night, Petra had been sitting at her bedside, reading Historia a bedtime story to help her fall asleep. Even though the story was one of her favorites, Historia felt her mind wandering to the same question over and over again as she fidgeted in her bed. Finally she got the courage to interrupt her.

"Petra, can I ask you something?" she asked suddenly, pulling the covers up to her chin.

"You know you can always ask me anything, Prin- er, Historia." Petra said, correcting herself due to the fact Historia had insisted she call her by her name rather than titles of respect she was so tired of hearing from the butlers and maids.

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked quietly, surprising Petra with the bluntness of the question.

She sat silently for a few heartbeats before closing the book she had been reading, setting it on the bedside table.

"First, before I answer, may I ask what's got you asking?" Petra replied, tilting her head at Historia curiously.

"W-well, it's just that…" Historia trailed off, looking for the right words before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"It's that...all I do is listen and read these stories about princes and princesses - princesses like me, falling in love and this and that. But...it's already decided that I'm going to marry Prince Reiner, when I've only met him once last year during Christmas." she said, her grip on the blanket tightening before she spoke again.

"I mean, I like Reiner and all, but, I don't really know him. Yet I'm going to marry him when I turn sixteen in a few years. But marriage is only between people that love each other, so why are we going to get married if we haven't fallen in love?" she reasoned, looking at Petra with sadness and doubt in her eyes. "That's why I'm wondering, does love really exist? Is there anyone you want to marry?"

Petra sat in stunned silence as she processed what HIstoria had said, surprised that a girl her age would have come to such conclusions on her own.

_Well, maybe I shouldn't be surprised. _She thought, realizing that most children were much more perceptive than adults - they were more honest, objective, in so many words.

"Yes, there is someone I love very deeply." Petra said.

"But, he's _very _far from being a prince." she laughed, adding that comment after watching the way Historia's eyes and mouth had widened in awe.

"Well, who is it?! What's he like?" Historia asked, suddenly much more interested in their conversation than the story Petra had been reading her. Petra chuckled at the eagerness in the little girl's voice.

"His name is Auruo Bossard, and he's very very stupid." she laughed, confusing Historia as she continued.

"He's ridiculous, absurd at times, self absorbed, I don't think he has an ounce of shame in his body-"

"Um, Petra?" HIstoria butt in, still confused.

"Hm?"

"Are you sure you love him? I mean with the things you're saying about him-"

"Of course I do." Petra said, smiling as HIstoria still didn't get it. Her gaze shifted to the window, her mind wandering as she began elaborating.

"Now, I say all of those things jokingly, though there is a bit of truth behind each of them. I find him charming, in his own way. And, despite all of his irritable traits that make him a pain in the neck, he's _my _pain in the neck, does that make more sense?" Petra asked.

"Sort of, yeah." Historia said, giggling with her.

"And, I always know what that dope is thinking. He really loves me, Historia. He really, earnestly does." Petra said, her gaze shifting back to Historia. "I think that's what made me fall in love with him in the first place."

"Are you two gonna get married?" Historia asked, covering her mouth with her hands.

"I don't know." Petra said, suddenly looking very sad as she uncrossed and crossed her legs.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Historia asked, puffing out her cheeks. "If you love him, and he loves you, get married! What's stopping you?"

"It's...complicated." Petra said, unsure of whether or not she should continue on, but deciding that Historia had a right to know.

"Historia...Auruo is, well, very ill right now." she paused, gauging Historia's reaction.

"Well, he's so ill, he's not sure how long he's going to live, maybe not even long enough to plan a wedding and get married." she said, causing Historia to sit upright in bed.

"Well, you can't give up! Maybe he'll get better." she said hopefully.

"It's impossible. His illness is terminal - incurable, meaning he can't get better." Petra said, the familiar feeling of despair weighing heavily on her chest.

"Then get married tomorrow! While there's still time!" Historia reasoned, tears rolling down her cheeks as Petra shook her head sadly.

"We can't, he's bedridden. He barely has the strength to crack bad jokes, or tell stories about his flashy heroics anymore." she said, feeling fresh tears beginning to roll down her own cheeks. "It's hopeless, it really is."

Historia shoved off her covers and crawled to the edge of her bed, throwing her arms around Petra, her warm tears staining the front of the young woman's shirt as she hugged her tightly.

"I'm sorry, Petra." she whispered, crying softly as Petra ran her fingers through her soft blonde hair.

"There's nothing to be done about it, don't cry." she said, more to herself than to the child hugging her as she wiped away her own tears.

After a few minutes, Historia pulled away from her, sniffling and hiccuping as she rubbed her eyes.

"You know, Historia," she said, watching the little girl climb back under the covers.

"What?" she asked, sniffing and wiping her nose on the sleeve of her night gown.

"I've always wanted a child - a little girl, actually." Petra said softly, tucking Historia in as she looked up at her, her eyes beginning to droop.

But," she said, looking down at her and smiling. "I got to meet you, so, it's kind of like I have my own little girl. Right here." she patted Historia's head, kissing it before blowing out the candle on her bedside table and picking up the story book she had set down.

As she turned to leave, she heard a drowsy voice calling her name, like she had heard the same voice call her countless times before.

"Petra…?" Historia yawned, her eyes closing as she snuggled into her blankets.

"Yes?"

"If you were to have a little girl, what would you name her?" Historia asked.

Petra stood there for several thoughtful moments, having never thought of what she would name her future children herself. She had contemplated it for a few more moments before deciding on a name.

"Christa." she said. Historia murmured in response.

Confident that she had finally fallen asleep, Petra left Historia's room, shutting the door tightly behind her.

And it was the last time that she would ever see her again.

* * *

The following day, while Petra had been out in the town, she had witnessed a man attempting to hold a little girl at knifepoint in front of a food stand in exchange for money. According to a witness, Petra had attacked the man, saving the little girl yet ending up in her place. Once the man had gotten the money he wanted, he had slit her throat and escaped, leaving her to bleed out before the police could arrive.

Upon hearing the news, devastated, Auruo's health had declined steadily. Historia, upon learning his location from Petra's family through her mother, had visited him in his small home where he lived with his elderly parents. She had sat at his bedside, listening to him tell her stories of his vallency that Petra had laughed about, and couldn't help but notice how shallow and gray his face seemed. The way sweat seemed to bead on his forehead in strain whenever he shifted in bed. The dark rings under his eyes. His incredibly thin arms. The way his hands always shook faintly.

He always seemed to need a drink of water, or a moment to catch his breath between strings of words that fell from his mouth in hushed whispers. Historia wanted desperately to hold this man - to hold him and cry, cry in despair at a once great man that had been run down by illness, a man that had had his whole life in front of him.

He had had a woman who loved him, who wanted to marry him.

And now, she was gone, and he was left alone.

Historia held her hands tightly in her lap, her head slightly lowered as she bit her lip, trying not to cry as she stared at the floor. Auruo paused mid sentence, regarding Historia sadly in the silence that hung between them.

"Don't...don't do that." he said, Historia raising her head slightly.

"Don't...hide your feelings behind...a tough act," Auruo said, pausing for breath. "It always made me sad...when Petra would do that...for my sake."

Historia bit her lip harder as tears stung her eyes, trailing silently down her cheeks before she raised her head to look Auruo in the eyes - eyes that mirrored the sorrow she felt.

"It's not fair." she said, her voice shaking as she wiped away some of her tears with the back of her hand, dampening the cuff of her long sleeved shirt. "Why did it have to be you? To be her?"

"You know...as soon as I got sick, I asked myself that a lot." Auruo said.

"I thought...why me? I could've gotten married. I could've had children. I could've been successful. I-" his voice became raspy as he tried to regain composure. "I...If I wasn't sick...could I have been with her? Could I have saved her?"

Auruo broke into a fit of coughing and Historia quickly brought a glass of water to his lips. His eyes were tired and bloodshot as he took a few small gulps and gasped before speaking again.

"I was always angry that I was out of control of my life. I was going from being a hero in my world to the victim, and...I was angry and humiliated." he said quietly, turning his head to smile sadly at Historia.

"I was terrified she'd leave me, I mean, look at me - who would love this?" he laughed bitterly, quiet for a few moments before he spoke again, softer than before.

"But Petra...she never once thought about leaving me. She held my hand from the beginning, and gave me that smile, you know? That look that said 'everything's going to be okay, because I'm here'." tears began to roll down his cheeks when Historia took his hand in her own. "And I believed it. No matter what any doctor said, I was going to be okay."

They sat quietly, Historia squeezed Auruo's thin, ice cold hand in her soft warm ones, wishing she could give him some of her health.

She now understood what Petra had meant when she said that Auruo honestly loved her - the way he spoke of her, grieved for her, the small light that filled the eyes of a man thats life was slowly fading.

It was more real and dazzling than any story book she had ever read. There was a real life prince in front of her.

"It was funny, I always thought I was the hero, the big man. And yet, that cute girl that I thought I could impress - it turns out she was the real big shot all along. She was my hero." he said, looking at their joined hands.

"She was mine, too." Historia said, her voice cracking as she smiled.

The smiled at each other, chuckling quietly in happiness or irony, Historia wasn't sure. They laughed like this about things for a few hours, until Auruo fell asleep and Historia left, wishing him the best of health before leaving.

Auruo didn't wake up, and died four days later - a week after Petra died. Historia didn't smile for weeks after that.

* * *

Smiling sadly thinking about old memories, Historia opened her eyes, leaning forward and placing her hands on each side of her body as she slowly swung her legs back and forth.

"I wonder if you two found each other in heaven." she whispered to herself, still missing them even after half a decade.

Her thoughts wandering, Historia absentmindedly kicked a few twigs that were around near here feet. She imagined a healthy Auruo running to embrace Petra, waiting to greet him in the clouds. She smiled, a warm feeling filling her chest.

She was so lost in thought, smiling, that she hadn't realized someone had been calling her name.

"...dy...My lady!"

Historia snapped out of her reverie as Berthold quickly made his way across the stone path toward her. She stood up quickly as he finally reached her, panting for breath and sweating despite the chilly weather. He bowed to her slightly.

"My lady, your manicure for noon is about to start. I thought I'd find you, since I knew you wouldn't want to be late, so…" he said, trailing off and feeling awkward. She smiled up at him, as he dwarfed her in height despite being about the same age.

"Ah, thank you Bert. I'm really grateful for that, I would've been sitting out here daydreaming all day if it wasn't for you." she laughed, beginning to walk towards the house beside him.

As they walked, making small talk, Historia looked down at her short, bitten fingernails, thinking that she would much rather prefer them over the showy fake ones her mother was sure to have her get.

And sure enough, when they were done, she was right.

Then, like a proper lady her mother would say, she retired to her room to read, her mind wandering to old memories of Petra and Auruo until a maid had knocked on her door to inform her dinner would be ready.

As she sat in silence yet again, chewing her food slowly between sips of water, she wondered if in a life like hers if she would be able to have a love like Petra's - would these countless rules, years of boring schedules and ridiculing, could they lead to something as dazzling and infatuating as love?

Somewhere, in her subconscious, she found her answer in the silence.

The sudden lump that had formed in her throat refused to disappear, no matter how many sips of water she took that evening.

* * *

**Hello!**

**If you're new, thank you for taking time to read this - and if you've read my works before, double thank you! (I love you even though I take forever to update ahh)**

**I'm working on my other work _Memories of You_ today, but the idea for this story had been floating around in my mind, so I just had to get it down. It actually kind of helped me out of my writer's block a bit, so I'm ready to get my lazy ass in gear. Hurray!**

**Again, thank you so much for taking time to read this, and for putting up with my lack of updates these past few months...I'm so sorry I see all the nice comments and feel double guilty if it makes you feel better...**

**Feedback is always appreciated, and I'll try my best to do a good job! Promise! Oh, and I hope I spelled Auruo's name right. There's so many different spellings, it feels like I'll mess it up for someone no matter what. Sigh.**

**Love,**

**OopsIThoughtICouldFlyy**

**P.S. I've been listening to the most adorable album ever - Play by Akdong Musician, which is pretty morbid when I'm writing all these sad stories now that I think about it...oh well.**


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